Film School and Documenting Sri Lanka Experience

 

My plan is to make a documentary of our experience in Sri Lanka. When I went to film school in September 2009, I was not yet privy to this intention. In fact, I didn't even know that I wanted to go to film school, much less make a documentary film of our work with CUSO in Sri Lanka.

 

My foray into film making was indeed a serendipitous occurrence. As you all know, I spent almost four years working on my PhD in social work from 2005 to April 2009. During that time, reading the newspaper was an unafforded luxury, in terms of time. So, there I was in June, now a doctor and for the first time in years, I read a page of the paper. I have no idea what else I read that day, but I can tell you what I did read that day. I spotted, or rather it leapt off the page, a small 3x5 article that announced a contest. The contest was simple: email in your entry and win a free or half price tuition to the Gulf Islands Film School, Intensive Media Course in either a screenplay or documentary stream of study.

I grabbed our little notebook computer sitting on our kitchen table and sent away my entry. I chuckled at myself and Bill gawffed at this impulsivity. I promptly forgot about my entry until one day in July, I received a call on our telephone message machine. "This is Kathy from the Gulf Island Film School. Congratulations, Wendy. You have won our second prize – a half price tuition to our Intensive Media program. Call for details."

 

I coloured. Oh, brother, I thought and laughed at myself for being so silly to enter in the first place. I called the woman back and apologized for having sent in my entry, as I had no real intention of going to film school, a) I had never thought or desired to go to film school, b) I wasn't about to spend two weeks away from home and, c) I wasn't about to spend $1100 to attend something that I had never wanted in the first place. Indifferently, she indicated that it was up to me, but it was available to me, as my entry had been selected from the barrel.

 

Well, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I called her back articulating my concerns: I wouldn't be a good candidate as I had hardly even operated my photo camera. I was quite old. I would hold the other students back; I might be so overwhelmed by the amount I had to learn in such a short time. She asked me about my work experience. She again, rather indifferently, offered to discuss my concerns with George, the director of the school.

 

Several days later, the woman called me back and advised that George thought that, in fact, I might actually be a good candidate for the documentary stream, given my education and interview skills. Did I want the prize or not? She yawned into the phone. I needed to consider it further, I said.

 

It began consuming me; it seemed that I wanted to go. In a flash, with no hesitation, I decided. I am going! I picked up the phone and gave the woman my money. I registered for film school for September 2009 in the documentary stream. Hanging up the phone, a thrill of energy rose from the tips of my toes out through the top of my head. I stamped my feet. I ran on the spot! I literally jumped for joy around my kitchen and dining room. I leapt and stamped and raised my arms in joy! I shouted to the walls: I am going to film school; I am going to film school! I knelt in grateful prayer. Who was I? What had I done?

 

When Bill came home and I told him of my intention, he expressed puzzlement. "I didn't know you ever wanted to go to film school. You never told me that." How could I explain? I didn't know I wanted to go either. His response reflected my own puzzlement about this decision and queerness of being so wildly excited about going somewhere, to do something, I had not even really considered before.

 

So, in September 2009, I was off to film school. Kissing Bill goodbye, I drove out to Vancouver and after hopping a ferry to Galliano Island, my misgivings arose again. There was a young man on the ferry who looked like he might be going to film school too. He was young and handsome and fresh faced. I realized that he was likely going to be an example of my class mates at school. I imagined myself as the oldest registered film school student ever and the least experienced in camera and technology. I was convincing myself that I would be completely overwhelmed. I was both right and wrong.

 

Driving off the ferry, there was parked the Gulf Island Film School van and its driver, George, waiting to pick up students. A huge 13 passenger van, with a paint job consisting of white house paint rolled over the entire surface. The black lettering announcing the film school was also done in house paint. It was concerning. However, George, who actually is the owner of the school, was welcoming and super enthused about us being there. Racially, George, appeared Greeky (not geeky) in his coloring, had long stringy black hair, wore a black t- shirt and black pants with an expensive, but worn leather jacket. The whole ensemble looked stereotypically Hollywood Directorish and was worn consistently over the entire two weeks. His super enthusiasm never diminished over the two weeks either. "Ya, you guys are awesome, that is so cool, right on."

 

A couple of kids and a man about forty five climbed into the van. The older man brought several pieces of musical equipment and looked a bit like Valdy. He had arrived all the way from Saskatchewan to attend Film School. As I had my own car, I followed the van along the island highway that was a cut through thick cedars and lush forests. The road twisted and turned with occasional homes peeking out from behind the thick forest screen.

 

Finally, arriving at the gate of the Film School we wound up the driveway to the property. I stared at a set of four large industrial trailers, the modular bunk house types that you might find in a bush camp. They were arranged in a horseshoe fashion. One, across the top was the kitchen and bathrooms. The two down the sides were the bunk houses and the one at the end was the classroom. Flanking off the classroom were three smaller trailers that served as the editing suites, music suite and offices. We were shown around and then issued a room.

 

I opened the door and stepped inside. It was a bunk house! Two stacked narrow beds on one side and two stacked narrow beds on the other side; about one foot of floor space between the lower beds. I closed the door and breathed, What have I done to myself? Home and Bill seemed a long way away. Two weeks seemed like an eternity. I was scared. I hadn't bargained for this. Where was the romance in bunk houses?

 

Oh yes, had I mentioned that there was a strict alcohol policy at the school? I had signed an agreement that there was to be no alcohol on the premises and any violation resulted in expulsion. I had no crutch to lean on. I was totally alone. What had I done to myself?

 

My fears were founded. I was overwhelmed. However, I was not the oldest person there. In fact, I was the mean, in terms of age. Kees was 83 years of age, a world famous behaviourist biologist with a PhD who had studied Pacific Salmon behaviour all his life. He wanted to make documentary films with the salmon footage he had gathered over 50 years of field observation. John, was 70 something, a spry man, whose career stemmed over 40 years in Outward Bound. He had been making films for years and was looking to further develop his filmmaking skills. J. R., was 49, looked like 29 and was a youth worker in downtown Vancouver. He wanted to learn how to use film making and theatre as a way to connect with youth. Finally, in the documentary stream, there was Candace, about 25 years of age. Although the youngest, she actually became the "boss" of the group.

 

The screen play stream was filled with youngsters. Young, fresh, technologically advanced and all pretty clear that they were going to Hollywood with the stories they wanted to turn into movies. Although we interacted over the delicious meals served at the Film School, we did not really work together with them.

 

Our documentary team was offered a project; To Save Madrona Farms. Located 10 minutes from downtown Victoria, Madrona Farm provides food to over 3,500 homes in the Greater Victoria area. The 27-acre farm produces a diversity of 105 crops, 12 months a year.

The three Chambers brothers who owned the farm had competing interests as to the future of the farm. Their interests between farming and development were at the heart of the controversy surrounding this farm. One brother wanted to keep the farm as an organic farm, in perpetuity, while the other two brothers saw the economic value of a large tract of land surrounded by residential homes. They wanted it sold. The brother who wished the farm preserved currently had his son, David Chambers and David's wife Nathalie leasing and managing the farm. Together, they decided to contact The Land Conservancy of BC to assist with keeping the land for organic farming, sustainable food and food justice for the world. The Land Conservancy agreed to hold the title in perpetuity for the purpose of food justice for the world, but in order to do so, the two other Chambers brothers had to be bought out at fair market value. To make the stakes even higher, the Land Conservancy was given a deadline of, I believe May 2010, after which, the land would go on the open market.

 

The race was on to raise $950,000 in order to save the farm. Our documentary team was asked to consider doing a documentary on Madrona Farms as a way to raise their profile and to let people know of the plight. We agreed to take on this real story with an environmentally important cause, but Madrona Farms had a scheduled fund raising event, The Chef's Survival Race on Saturday and it was already Tuesday. We studied the operation of a camera, lighting, audio, white balance, imaging, lens control, shutter speed and use of tripod. We learned about script writing, storyboards and editing. We watched documentary films and attended lectures from producers and directors. We watched screen plays and critiqued them. We learned how to import music and the elements of good writing. We studied and practiced until late at night. We critiqued our videos in an effort to learn from our mistakes. On the Friday, we hopped in the house painted van, took the Ferry to Saanich and arrived on Madrona Farm.

The Chambers family accommodated our crew and to accommodate us, they stayed in a renovated chicken coop on the property. Candace and I stayed in the master bedroom while Kees and John slept in Nathalie and David's kid's beds. JR and one of our mentors, Fazail, slept in this lovely tree house on the edge of the property. We sat in that tree house until about 2 am, drinking wine and watching a full moon. Yes, we found a way around the rules.

 

Saturday we shot B-roll all day (pictures of the farm), we conducted interviews with Nathalie and David and with Bill Turner from the Land Conservancy. We interviewed neighbours and customers of the organic farm produce stand. We worked in the heat all day, each of us toting a television camera, a boom pole (sound mic) and tripod. We stole apples from the trees in the farm to feed ourselves as no food was offered and we didn't want to stop our work. About 10 pm that night we drove to Tim Horton's for a planning meeting on how to orchestrate filming the Chef's Survival Race. We drank coffee until 1:30 in the morning planning logistics for the next day, the day of the event.

 

The day of the event, we were up early, shooting more B-roll of organizers setting up their tents and wares. The Chef's Survival Race was six Island Chefs running an obstacle course around the farm to be followed by a cook-off of their gourmet meals. These meals were to be auctioned off to the highest bidder with all proceeds to Madrona Farms. It was a big event and as it turned out well attended. We took video all day of the musicians, the obstacle race, the happy crowds, the colourful food and, the beautiful grounds. We interviewed and we filmed. John took aerial shots.

 

Exhausted, we piled back into the van, and took the last Sunday Ferry back to Galliano and the Film School. From that time on, we worked feverishly, making shot lists, listening and watching video, selecting the best, writing a story board and thinking. We cut video. Tense moments arose as dissention in the group manifested itself from time to time. We duked it out. |Our roles within the team began to evolve: Candace as leader and good editor, John as expert in editing effects and audio effects, while Kees contributed his knowledge around documentary film process. I was mediator and conceptualized the themes. J.R. was our music man and also held people accountable.

 

The last two days, we slept in shifts working day and night to complete our film before the Screen Play Showing on our last day of class. Our film was burned to DVD at the eleventh hour. Frazzled, proud and very tired, we proudly ushered our family members into the Auditorium for the Screen Play. The Screenwriters and Animators at the school showed their films and then ours was announced.

 

George explained to the crowd that this was the first time in fifteen years, students had taken on a film of this magnitude and the first time in fifteen years, a television station was purchasing the rights to the film. CHEX-TV was interested in developing the documentary further and using our footage.

 

I left film school with a new sense of who I was and what I could be. I had stepped into a world as different as if I had stepped onto Mars. The landscape of what I learned and what my brain was capable was beyond belief. I had been terrified walking into this unknown, but the experience was so empowering, so invigorating, so challenging, so rewarding, so broadening, that I realized, I must never be afraid to venture down the road less travelled. It is there that I am meant to be. Grasp at opportunity. They are not there by accident.

 

So, back to Sri Lanka. In September, Bill and I travelled to Ottawa for CUSO training and some of the volunteers had short video clips of their experiences. Bill turned to me and whispered, with tears in his eyes, "Now you know why you had to go to film school." I nodded back.

 

P.S.

1. On May 14, 2010, The Land Conservancy of BC proudly announced that Madrona Farm was saved from development and will remain, in perpetuity, an agricultural piece of land for the production of food.

2. The guy who looked like Valdy? He had a stroke the first night of film school and was sent to the hospital (we thought he was drunk). He was still in a coma when we left film school. His outcome is not known.

3. And, yes, the young man on the Ferry was at film school with me. Jesse was his name and he was also a Kamloops boy. He was eighteen years of age.

4. Our production, Madrona Farms: The Race for Survival has been nominated for an Outstanding Achievement award in the Documentary Category "Presentation of An Issue" and will be adjudicated for the 2010 EyeLens Film Festival on May 28 at the Rio Theatre in Vancouver.